Object Lesson
by girl in the glen
Summary: April Dancer knows how to do her job, she's still learning how to tame her heart.


"April Dancer, as I live and breathe!" The handsome man making that exclamation drew every eye in the room to the object of it. April, dressed in a stylish ensemble straight from the Paris runways beamed with undisguised pleasure. She was a woman after all, and a compliment was sure to be next out of Desmond's mouth. Holding a drink in one hand, he reached for April in hopes of making physical contact. "Darling, it is you. I saw your handsome face from all the way over there and just melted inside. How are you Desmond dear?" Desmond D'Orville was a man of great taste and even greater fortune... all of it good. Seeing April here, like this, was just another page in his brag book. "I can't believe you're here, and looking more beautiful than ever I might add." He leaned in and kissed the auburn haired beauty on the cheek as she purred her pleasure at the gesture. As much as she hated to admit it, April found Desmond very attractive and therefore, very dangerous. On previous occasions April had been sent in to try and dissuade D'Orville from aligning himself with THRUSH, and from all appearances she had been successful. Recent reports, however, seemed to indicate that the wealthy industrialist was once again flirting with the supranational organization, thus the need to send in the UNCLE agent once again. "Desmond, you're such a flatterer... don't stop." April winked at Desmond, drew him in like a fish on a line. This time around would require more than some flirtatious attempt to cajole him into acting nice. If D'Orville were to engage in any sort of activity with THRUSH the results might be world shattering, to say the least. His wealth combined with the Hierarchy's continuing efforts to topple governments and all methods of law and order had convinced Section I that a more persuasive intervention was needed. April Dancer was just the first move. "May I introduce my friend, Napoleon Solo... Napoleon this is Desmond D'Orville." Napoleon reached out to exchange handshakes, a diversion that allowed Illya Kuryakin to slip something into their prey's drink. "Please, sit down and join us Mr. D'Orville. We were just going to order lunch." Desmond was agreeable to the invitation; it was wonderful to see April again, even if there was another man present. "Thank you, I'd like that very much.' He motioned for the blond waiter to bring menus, wondered at the sudden buzz he was experiencing behind his right eye. "My treat, it's so wonderful to see you again April." Napoleon feigned reluctance but accepted gracefully. He could see that Desmond was beginning to feel the effects of the drug. "You aren't looking well, can I get something for you?" The afflicted man heard the words Napoleon spoke but they were fuzzy and hard to understand. What was happening to him? That was his last thought before he was walked out of the restaurant in a haze of blurred images and receding sounds. When he awoke from a lengthy sleep, Desmond D'Oville was in a hospital bed and surrounded by medical equipment and the sounds that accompanied them. "Hello Darling, I was beginning to worry about you." April. April was beside his bed. "What happened? I felt fine and then suddenly..." Desmond looked to the redhead for some type of explanation, noted that she had changed clothes and was wearing a black turtleneck and black slacks and... a gun. Where was he? "What's going on April? Where am I, and why are you dressed like that. Why are you wearing a gun?" April smiled at the confused man in the bed, then nodded her head towards the door. Alexander Waverly appeared, his craggy features indicating serious business ahead. "That will be all Miss Dancer. Please inform Mr. Solo that he will be expected here in, ahh... twenty minutes exactly. Thank you." And with that April was dismissed. She would swing by Napoleon's office before returning to her own space to write her part of the report. By the end of the day Alexander Waverly would have his man or else. D'Orville would know exactly what he was dealing with regardless of whose side he was leaning towards, and April suspected that his allegiance might swing decidedly in favor of law and order. Two days later the word came down that Desmond D'Oville had been killed in a freak automobile accident. April was stunned, angry at the thought that UNCLE might have been involved. She was torn between anger and sadness when she entered Napoleon's office and asked the question she couldn't ignore. "Napoleon, how... who killed Desmond? Please tell me that it wasn't ordered by... please say it wasn't our side that did this." April was nearly in tears, she really did have a small measure of affection for the elegant D'Orville. Napoleon shook his head, stood up and put his hand on the young woman's shoulder. "April... no, no it wasn't ordered. From the intelligence we've received on this it truly was a freak accident. We can't even fault THRUSH for this, it was just terribly bad luck. I'm sorry, I know you liked him.' Solo tilted her chin up slightly so that he could look her in the eyes. "I am truly sorry." "What had he decided to do about... you know, about THRUSH? Was he still going to do business with them?" April hadn't been privy to the final outcome of the discussion between Desmond and Mr. Waverly. A briefing had been scheduled for this very afternoon. Napoleon shook his head again, this time in answer to her question. "He was genuinely unaware of their intentions. His contacts had all been business propositions, and he was going to commit to helping UNCLE combat them in whatever manner he was able. It is very unfortunate that he won't be able to fulfill that commitment. You can be somewhat comforted by the fact that he made the right decision. It's something, if only a small something." April appreciated that from her superior, was emboldened enough to reach up and kiss Napoleon on the cheek. "Thanks boss, that means a lot to me." April was an UNCLE agent, and she knew things like this happened. She wondered if it ever got easier. 


End file.
